Veritas
by Chase El Toliso
Summary: This story starts about one month after the movie. The descent of one character into madness and everything that follows. I never said I was good at writing summaries. Please read and review!
1. Batman?

**Veritas**

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Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, though he's been my favourite superhero for a bloody long time. I do own Mara Russell, Christine, and Phil.  
Oh. And I'm borrowing most of my chapter titles from a Batman joke that _someone_ created (I don't know who), so I don't own some phrases that will be in the titles. So, yeah. Here we go.

This story starts about a month after the movie (Batman Begins).

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Batman? 

"_So folks, if you're planning a night on the town for tonight, cancel it. Gotham City weather forecasters are putting out warnings of severe thundershowers for tonight, the likes of which we haven't seen in years. In further news, billionaire Bruce Wayne has been officially declared...alive! Talk about an attention seeker..."_

A young woman with long, poker-straight black hair quickly changed lanes, speeding up to get past a slow car on the after-work commute. Her tires skidded on the quickly flooding pavement. The windshield wipers were going full-speed, though the torrential rain still managed to run down the windshield in small waterfalls, obscuring the girl's vision.

"Come on! Will you get moving! Some of us have lives to get to!" she yelled, knowing full-well that no one outside of herself would be able to hear her. She reached onto the passenger seat and grabbed her cell-phone. Quickly, she dialed her parents' apartment.

A couple rings sounded over the line, and then a woman's voice came across through the static. "He..lo?"

"Mom. Hey, it's me. The connection doesn't sound very good, so I hope you'll catch all this. I'm on my way over there to drop off a birthday gift for Dad."

"Mara? When wi...get here?" The static on the line was getting worse, though Mara could have sworn she heard the doorbell ring in the background.

"Traffic's horrible, but I'm hoping I can get there within ten minutes or so." Mara paused, curiosity getting the better of her. "Who's at the door?" she asked. She could hear what sounded like arguing over the line...no...yelling. "Mom! Mom, what's going on?"

There was a crashing noise on the other end of the line and then silence. Mara couldn't speak another word. She was listening...listening for some sign of what was going on...listening for her mom to come back on the line and tell her everything was okay.

Suddenly there were more scuffling noises on the other end of the line. "Mara?" her mother whispered. "Mara, call...police." The line went dead.

Mara was gasping for air, her breathing coming in sobs. She fumbled with her phone, trying to dial the three simple numbers to call for help. Glancing back up at the road Mara let out a short scream as she swerved to avoid rear-ending the car in front of her which had come to a sudden stop. She held her phone back up to her ear. "_Thank you for calling 9-1-1. If this is an emergency, please press one."_ Mara quickly pressed the button. _"Thank you. Please hold for the next available operator."_

"_What_?" Mara yelled into the phone. She increased her pressure on the accelerator, rushing to get to her parents.

"9-1-1 Emergency, how can I help you?" a polite, if slightly bored, voice sounded over the line after a few minutes.

"I need your help," Mara gasped. "Something's happened at my parents' apartment. 425 Oaksby Street. Apartment 5G!"

"Can you elaborate, miss?" the bored voice responded.

"They need help!" she yelled. "I think someone broke in...or...or forced their way in. There was yelling and crashing and..." she took a breath, unable to remember any other details, "my mother said to call the police!"

"Alright, miss. We'll send someone over to check things out as soon as we can."

"_As soon as you can? What does that mean? They need you now!" _Mara screamed into the phone.

"With the storm, it is a very busy night, miss. We will get to this call as soon as we can. It may just turn out to be a misunderstanding."

"A _misunderstanding?_" But the line was dead once again. The operator had hung up. Moving on to more important phone calls.

_Never mind_, Mara thought. _I don't need them_. She had just arrived and pulled up the alley behind her parents' apartment building. She parked the car and quickly jumped out, running in the back alley door. Everything looked normal enough. Mrs. Grossman was yelling at her husband in 1E to "get up off his fat butt and take out the garbage;" little Johnny from 1B was throwing firecrackers in the hallway.

_See_, Mara told herself, _everything's going to be just fine, just like the operator said._ But she still quickened her pace and pushed through the door to the stairs – the elevator rarely worked. She ran up the four flights of stairs and burst out into the fifth floor hallway, gasping for air. She looked around as she made her way to her parents' apartment, 5G, dread slowing her steps. 5A looked fine, 5B, 5C, everything looked normal. 5D, 5E, 5F... she stopped dead. 5G. Mara grabbed for the doorknob to push into the apartment – to enter her parents' home and have them both rush to greet her, laughing off the misunderstanding. But as soon as Mara touched the doorknob she realized this was not to be. The doorknob was slick with blood. Mara's body became cold with fear. Fear for her parents. She no longer felt anything for herself.

Grasping the knob tightly, Mara pushed the door open. The lamp that used to sit on the coffee table in the entryway – _Mom's favorite lamp_, Mara thought – was smashed on the floor. Mara stepped through the mess and felt the glass crunch beneath her shoes. She realized she was holding her breath. She walked resolutely, as one who knows they are without hope, into the family room – the room that held so many happy memories of growing up for Mara: so many birthdays, so many hugs. In that room she finally let out her breath...and screamed.

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A/N: This is my first fan-fiction and thus my first Batman fan-fiction as well. I've had the beginning of this story in my mind for a long time, so I hope y'all like it. Please review! I do a happy dance for each and every review I get. Honest to goodness. 


	2. Gotham News

**Veritas**

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Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. I do own Mara Russell, Christine, and Phil.

­­Author's Note­: Thanks to LisaDawn75 and ladyFrost2 for reviewing. I'm glad you both like it so far!

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Gotham News

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_Saturday, May 13th_

Unfortunate events unfolded for a Gotham family during last night's storm. Phil and Christine Russell, a couple married thirty years and leaving one child, were murdered in their downtown apartment during a routine break-and-enter. Money and jewellery were taken, and the thieves-turned-murderers got away. Police currently have no suspects.

Their daughter, Mara Russell (aged 24), found the bodies of her parents after being on the phone with Christine when the break-and-enter occurred. Mara reportedly called the police, but due to the storm they did not make it to the scene for two hours.

Even more unfortunate for this Gotham family is that Batman had been just blocks away that night responding to the 'Bat-Signal' from the police regarding more mayhem being reaped by the laughing criminal mastermind: The Joker (more on The Joker on page C1).

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A/N: I'm not even going to presume to call this a chapter. It's more of a page break really… 139 words. A full sized chapter will be coming next, in which there is Bruce and Alfred… I now appreciate how bloody difficult it is to write dialogue between two such well-known characters. 


	3. He Lives in a Lair

**Veritas**

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any of the facts/characters I've used from the Batman movies or comics (i.e. Daniel Danforth Dickerson III). I do own Mara Russell, Ann, and Natalie.  
And I'm borrowing this chapter title from a Batman joke that _someone_ created (I don't know who), so technically I don't own the phrase used in this chapter title, but it makes me smile every time…

Author's Note: Thanks to LisaDawn75, Blodeuedd, and emptyvoices for reviewing.

LisaDawn75: I'm really glad you're still liking it! I hope you like this chapter too.

Blodeuedd: _Blush_. Wow, you sure know just what to say to make someone happy. I was floating around on a cloud all day after I read your review! A million thanks.

emptyvoices: Glad you liked it. I hope this update was fast enough to make you smile!

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He Lives in a Lair 

"Alfred, can you hand me the drill?"

"Of course, Master Bruce," Alfred answered his employer, handing over the tool. "Now, remind me again, Master Bruce, why we decided we were capable of upgrading this cave ourselves," he said, wiping sweat off his brow with his handkerchief.

Bruce chuckled. "Well, if you didn't insist on wearing your uniform to muck around in these caves with me, I'm sure you wouldn't find it quite so uncomfortable. Besides, I seem to remember _you_ suggesting these upgrades. I'm just going along with your genius."

Alfred frowned and adjusted his suit collar. "Yes, well... I suppose flattery will get you everywhere." His voice was very dry. Very English.

"Will it get me an opinion on how this looks?" Bruce had just finished securing the last anchor into the rock wall. Towering impressively against the wall was a massive computer system, with multiple screens, radios, and dials and switches of which Alfred could only guess their uses.

"Well, sir, it looks to me like a nightmare to set up, but now that it's secure to the wall and the programming will be up to you – not me – I'd say it looks very appropriate for the lair of Gotham's superhero."

"Hmm," was Bruce's only reply. He wasn't sure if he liked this whole 'superhero' label. Superheroes were admired, not feared. He didn't want this label from the newspapers to detract from the fear he had placed in Gotham's criminals so far. He stood back to admire the fruits of their labor: the computers climbing high up one wall, bright electric lanterns hanging all along the rocky ceiling, and twenty-three steps carved up to one of several hidden doorways now part of Wayne Manor.

Wayne Manor was rebuilt in three weeks time. A testament to what can be done when money is not an issue. And now that the building was complete, Alfred was insisting on hosting a housewarming party: an attempt to rectify the affront to upper-class society caused by Bruce's "drunkenness" at his birthday party. Public appearances as Bruce Wayne had been scarce since then, and Batman was able to spend more time fighting the dark underbelly of Gotham. _Not that it's made a difference_, Bruce thought morosely. A sigh of frustration escaped from him.

Alfred frowned. "You'll catch him soon enough, Master Bruce."

Bruce looked over at his butler, not surprised at his insight. "Not soon enough to save that family last month... the Russells." He shook his head in frustration and glared at a spot on the cave wall. "He played with me. He keeps playing. Makes me look one way, then murders an innocent family practically in the same neighborhood. Dammit, Alfred. He killed them just to show me he could get away with it!" Bruce flinched at the rage he could hear in his own voice. He felt the reassuring pressure of a hand on his shoulder.

Alfred spoke firmly. "You _will_ get him, Bruce. You will bring him to justice and the people of Gotham will see that, with Batman around, the murderers and criminals of Gotham will go free no longer." There was silence and Bruce felt his anger calm to a simmer. "Now," Alfred began cheerfully, "it's time to get ready for your party." Bruce groaned. Alfred shot him a stern but amused look. "And please do be on your best behaviour this time."

"Don't tell me it was difficult to get anyone to come tonight?"

"Oh no," Alfred responded dryly. "No, you have much too much money for situations to ever become as dire as that."

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The elite of Gotham society began arriving at Wayne Manor at six o'clock that night: the men in their best tuxedos and the women in their best cocktail dresses of varying shades of black. 

Bruce surveyed the gathering through the two-way mirror he had had installed looking out onto the entryway of the manor from one of many newly built hidden rooms. He sighed and rotated his shoulders, preparing to make his way into the foray of the elite. He ran his hand down the barely visible seam in the wall to have it slide smoothly and silently open, and he stepped through into one of the many upper halls of his mansion. The door slid closed behind him. Nose raised a few inches higher in the air, face set to impassive friendliness, Bruce went to meet his guests.

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"Bruce Wayne. Wonderful to see you again, Bruce." A squat, chubby man hurried forward to shake Bruce's hand. 

Bruce smiled, shaking his hand. "Glad you could make it, Mayor Dickerson. How's the family?"

"Always happy to be invited to the home of one of Gotham's most influential citizens." Daniel Danforth Dickerson III grinned in an attempt at charm and motioned to his wife and daughter behind him. The older woman wore a black skirt and suit jacket; her graying blonde hair was piled high on top of her head. She ushered forward her blushing daughter whose outfit mirrored her own.

"Bruce, darling, you've never met our daughter, have you," Ann Dickerson simpered. "Natalie's just a couple years younger than you… I thought it would be so wonderful for you two to meet." Ann smiled broadly while the younger Dickerson seemed to be trying to hide behind her own curtain of blonde hair.

"Oh yes," the Mayor pitched in. "I know you'll get along just wonderfully, Bruce." Bruce smiled at the three of them and fought the overwhelming urge to run away. He could face the lowest of Gotham's villains, but overzealous matchmakers were what truly terrified him.

"...the police are beginning to believe they might be working together to wreak their havoc on us," a high nasal voice caught Bruce's attention.

"I'd believe that," a deep male voice responded. "All these psychos seem to be in league to ruin our city."

A third voice chimed in. "It is rather convenient that Batman hasn't caught The Joker yet."

"...so what do you think, Bruce?" Ann asked him, bringing him back to their conversation.

"I'm sorry, Ann. What was that?"

Ann sighed cheerfully and, in a polite if slightly patronizing tone, repeated her question. "Would you like to have a dance with our little Natalie later this evening?"

Bruce widened his smile into his most charming. _This is going to be a very long night_.

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A/N: I always enjoy the suspense-filled chapters best (for writing and reading), but unfortunately there must be slower chapters in between. Dammit. Hope y'all enjoyed it though. Please review! 


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